


Reluctance

by severinne



Series: The Wind and Its Satellite [11]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Corsetry, Crossdressing Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Genderfluid, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:53:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3108485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christopher Pike was the most open lover McCoy had ever had. Until he discovered an unexpected desire hidden beneath the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reluctance

McCoy drew a slow, careful breath – deliberate through his curling nostrils, out through a shock-slackened mouth. ‘Chris,’ he called out warily.

‘Hmn?’ Pike loped out of the en suite bath, oblivious to any tension awaiting him until he looked up from the drawstring on his sleep pants to see what McCoy held clenched in his fingers. At that, he froze with obvious trepidation, and McCoy’s stomach lurched.

‘What…’ He cleared his throat, patched his anger around the raw tatters of hurt shredding his voice. ‘What the _fuck_ is this?’

‘I…’ Pike cut himself off with a sharp shake of his head, arms falling to his sides. His hands were slack, but McCoy recognized the readiness in his reflexes, waiting to spring to battle. ‘What were you doing in there?’ he started instead, jerking his chin at the open dresser drawer.

‘You ruined my shirt,’ he snapped back. ‘I was looking for something I could wear home. _This,_ ’ he growled, shaking the delicate scrap of fabric crumpled in his hand, ‘doesn’t exactly qualify.’ 

Pike’s narrowed eye followed the angry fistful of satin panties as McCoy flung it away. The feather-light fabric fell far short of his target, leaving a nastier taste of helplessness in its wake. ‘It’s not what you think,’ he said sharply. ‘Leo…’

‘Don’t.’ He glared into the drawer to hide the worst of his pain, fighting to salvage some goddamn dignity but _fuck_ , there was more of it, more glints of fine frivolous shit hidden among Pike’s sensible boxer briefs. He stared hopelessly, nearly choking on the hard lump of disappointment and rage stopping his throat, his heart…

‘Leo…’ Again, but softly now, almost aching with its own sadness. ‘Do you have so little trust in me? In us?’

_No._ That was the worst part, to have remembered how to trust only to be played as a blind fool by a man who had promised to never hurt him with those betrayals again, a man who had seemed to understand… ‘No,’ he decided out loud, even if it sounded more desperate than determined. ‘No, I trusted… I _trust_ you, but…’ He leaned against the open dresser, closed his eyes. ‘Please tell me this is just some of One’s leftover crap for old time’s sake.’

A reluctant pause thickened the tension bearing down on McCoy’s shoulders. ‘Not her size,’ Pike said finally, quietly. ‘Hell, not even her style.’

Awful curiosity made him open his eyes again, reach down to tug at what he recognized as a gauzy black stocking as he fumbled for some other less damning truth. ‘Sure as shit ain’t mine either,’ he muttered. 

A thicker, heavier silence. It stretched out so long that McCoy finally looked around, eyes widening to see his Chris… well, this wasn’t his Chris, not with his arms folded tight across his bare chest and unhappiness etched deep around his mouth. His shadowed eye caught McCoy’s stare, shifted quickly away.

‘I figured as much.’

‘You…’ He had to look away again to sort it out, back into the confounding drawer. His damn fingers were still plucking at that stocking. ‘Are you saying…’

‘Those are all sized for you.’ 

McCoy whirled around, jaw dropping but Pike had turned away entirely to stare out the bedroom’s glass curtain wall. His mouth moved wordlessly until he realized he still had his hand in the damn drawer; he snatched it back with a curse beneath his breath. ‘Those are women’s things,’ he protested flatly.

Pike threw him a scathing, fleeting glare that made McCoy feel immediately stupid. _Fine,_ conservative upbringing aside he knew these things were made for men’s bodies too and most folk kept an easier view on the whole gender spectrum anyway. Making the distinction out loud already marked him for an outdated fool and _shit_ , that wasn’t fair, not when he had every right to be angry.

Only he wasn’t angry anymore, not really. Pike was staring over the bay again, an anxious hand kneading the back of his neck in an unfamiliar gesture that cracked a tiny fissure in his heart.

‘When did you even… get these?’ he asked, straining for something rational to say. Not exactly the most relevant question, but it was a start.

‘While you were on Capella IV,’ he said tonelessly. ‘Not long before you got back but you’d been away for months…’ Pike exhaled slowly, lowered his hand to his side. ‘It was a dumb, horny impulse. That’s all.’

‘That was ages ago.’ Though not so far back that McCoy could forget the worst of that long separation, the excessive hours he had poured into his work to escape the wistful loneliness and yes, the frustration wrung out by his own inadequate fingers. ‘Why didn’t you ever…’

Pike scoffed, shook his head. ‘Why, because this is going so well?’

‘That’s not goddamn fair, Chris,’ he snapped. ‘Since when do we hide these things from each other? I mean…’ His incredulous gaze drifted to the bed they had so recently despoiled, the tangled sheets no doubt still warm with sweat and come. From his angle, McCoy could see the knotted shreds of the shirt Pike had forcibly torn from his body, the spit-slick ball gag that had muffled his cries. ‘Compared to _that_? Hell, you could have _made me_ wear them if you wanted it that much.’ Put like that, the idea already made more sense but Pike turned back around with a distasteful twist to his mouth.

‘I… didn’t want to…’ he started carefully, ‘not like that. I didn’t want it to be…’ He made a half-gesture back to the bed as though it would fill in the blank that hung confused in McCoy’s mind. 

‘What?’

Pike sighed, shrugged. ‘Degrading,’ he decided finally. ‘You’ve got a pretty tight grip on your masculinity,’ he elaborated at McCoy’s arched eyebrow. ‘I didn’t want you to think it was about humiliating you, or…’

‘Right,’ he breathed, if only to end Pike’s explanation before it became more distracting. Of course he would have scowled and protested if Pike had forced him to wear those dainty things, all while inevitably submitting to the demand. He could see it now: the cruel dare, his own resistance, maybe something rough to push his obedience into all that silk and lace chafing cool against his skin while Pike held him down, worked him up. He could even hear it, a low rasping murmur of _dirty girl_ at his ear while a greedy hand tormented his cock through a tangle of panties.

He gave his head a sharp shake, cleared his throat. ‘So if it’s not…’ Like his Chris, he let a gesture to the ruined bed finish his thought but the question only frustrated Pike even further.

‘Does it matter?’ he asked wearily. ‘Close the drawer.’

It wasn’t the uncompromising edge of command in Pike’s voice that made McCoy do as he said, but the lingering discomfort he heard beneath it. ‘Chris…’

‘Not now. Please,’ he added as McCoy opened his mouth to argue. He stared moodily back, sighed, then snapped his jaw shut on a silent nod. Even so, he squinted doubtfully as Pike crossed the room, shedding some of the tension from his shoulders as he walked. McCoy felt a shiver of anticipation slip down his bare back as Pike joined him at the dresser, their bodies nearly touching as he opened a different drawer.

‘I’m sorry about your shirt,’ he said as he offered one of his long-sleeved ‘Fleet undershirts.

‘I’m not.’ McCoy held his gaze, deliberately provoking as he accepted the garment with a slide of his fingers over Pike’s strong hand in unspoken apology. A spark of interest lit the slate of his pale eyes, but nowhere near enough to keep his hand from pulling away.

‘It’ll be a bit tight on you,’ he warned unnecessarily, looking aside as McCoy wrestled his arms into the narrower sleeves of Pike’s shirt. ‘But it’ll keep you decent until you get back to your room.’

‘Depends on your definition of decent,’ he grunted as he forced the shirt over his head and tugged the taut black fabric down his chest. The shirt clung to his broader torso like a second skin, barely reaching the waistband of his jeans; McCoy gave up trying to make it any better and glanced up with another barb on his tongue that melted at the mingled hunger and frustration on Pike’s face. 

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he breathed, almost to himself. McCoy ducked his head to hide the flush of his face, tugging self-consciously at the hem of the shirt. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he mumbled. 

'And that's the problem,' he added, every bit as quiet. McCoy struggled for a reply, but his stumbling lips were caught in a tender, lingering kiss. 'You'd best get going.'

McCoy groaned as Pike drew away, rolled his eyes in blunt irritation. 'Who cares if I'm late for some damned class?'

'The Academy Commandant, for one,' Pike said mildly as he perched against the foot of his bed. 'Maybe you've come across him once or twice.'

An involuntary, unsexy snort escaped him. ‘More than a couple times,’ he agreed as he followed in Pike’s wake. ‘He’s a tough one. Heard he’s big on discipline…’

That fleeting kiss, this mild flirting turned him shamelessly against Pike’s strange evasions, had him curling a hand around the end rail of Pike’s bed as he pressed in close to a firm thigh. The downward slide of Pike’s eyes, the fingers that slipped along bare skin where the too tight shirt rode above his jeans almost gave him hope but the lips that brushed along his jaw were too chaste. 

‘Go on, you’re going to be late.’ He gave McCoy’s ass a mild smack as he turned his head away. The dismissal was too easy, too calm to leave unchallenged by his own fingers turning that face back to him, holding his jaw perhaps a hint too firmly as he took his mouth in an indecent kiss that raked up a small, wrenching noise from the back of Pike’s throat. He wouldn’t overstay his welcome any further, but damned if he would walk out without making Pike regret his choice.

‘Until next time, darling,’ he promised, pausing to thumb slickly over Pike’s flushed lower lip. He drank in the shiver of his body, the stubbornly downcast eyes and tucked them away inside his secret self as he took his leave. 

Well. That had been different.

\+ + +

With Jim’s absence as certain as it ever could be, McCoy sprawled across his bunk two days later with his PADD in one hand and a drink in the other as he scanned the results of several embarrassing searches on some of the seedier dataports he knew. Finding what he needed wasn’t nearly as difficult as he had hoped; there was no shortage of hard male bodies writhing for his attention, their taut muscle and thick cocks more flaunted than demured by the tiny scraps of satin, mesh and lace clinging in the most distracting ways possible.

He lingered too long over one slow video loop of an especially gorgeous man in corset and stockings, down on all fours, arching into the possessive groping of his older male partner over his prettily presented body. McCoy’s breath caught at a sharp tug of fingers at the corset’s laces, escaped in a groan as the other hand slid up a stocking-clad thigh and nudged beneath the flimsy, inadequate panties…

McCoy knocked the PADD facedown against his tensed belly and pressed his hand against his stiffening cock through his trousers. No question he was turned on; something about the decadence, the contradiction of it was quickening his blood and canting his hips into the welcome pressure of his own hand. But small wonder – the men in those vids were unfathomably attractive, all hard-chiseled and smooth and perfect. If that was what Pike wanted, he was in for a huge disappointment. 

He took a bracing shot of bourbon to drown the embarrassment fluttering in his gut, glancing evasively to the other side of the room. Jim wouldn’t have any problem pulling it off, he mused moodily. Kid was plenty pretty, and confident enough to make it look good. Hell, he would be downright preening at the attention, probably already had a few choice things tucked away for special occasions… 

With a firm shake of his head, he eased his hand away from his erection and plucked up the PADD again, giving the perpetually rutting bodies on the screen one last longing look before dismissing them entirely from his search logs. He turned instead to a secure Academy port where he dredged up a password from memory, offered his thumbprint when prompted and received unrestricted access to Captain Christopher Pike’s confidential schedule. 

As ever, he did his damnedest to focus on abstract blocks of time rather than the particulars of the confidential briefings littered among Pike’s more innocuous Academy duties. He was still baffled at having ever been granted this sort of access, despite Pike’s coy explanations.

_‘Can’t you get court-martialed for shit like this?’_

_‘That would be a bit melodramatic of Starfleet,’ Pike had said dryly, ‘even if I was caught. Which isn’t going to happen with all the layers of encryption I’ve built into this thing.’_

_If anything, McCoy’s frown had deepened. ‘Why all the effort? Hell, why the risk?’_

_‘Only seems fair, given the liberties I’ve taken with my clearances.’ The spark in his eye was suggestive of illicit hospital visits and random encounters in the unlikeliest corners of campus. McCoy smirked despite himself, shook his head._

_‘And here I thought you just got off on having the upper hand.’_

_‘Oh, I do,’ he winked. ‘But doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy being hunted down once in a while.’_

The conversation had taken a different turn from there, had stopped being conversational altogether but McCoy gave his head a shake and focused back on the calendar on his screen. The sort of time he needed appeared unlikely but _there_ , a whole afternoon of meetings running late enough to drive Pike straight home afterwards. He pulled up his own schedule to confirm, then counted back the days with a mostly steady exhale.

Good. Another eight days to work up the nerve to make it happen.

\+ + +

He let himself into Pike’s apartment with almost an hour to spare: time enough to make the liquor cabinet his first stop.

The first sip of bourbon was burning down his throat before he had finished shrugging off his coat; McCoy threw it over the nearest chair without setting down his glass and dropped on top of it to absorb his drink and his plan. He only hoped that a single shot would be enough to get him moving to the bedroom.

It wasn’t, but he forced himself to get up anyway, leaving his empty glass on the sideboard as he crossed Pike’s apartment to the bedroom. His steady hands did what his mind was unable to confront: opening dresser drawers, searching the closet, sifting carefully through folded stacks of clothes until everything worth finding was flung across the bed.

The results made McCoy itch for another drink.

He had braced himself for something more than the couple scraps of lingerie he had found last week but was utterly unprepared for the possibility of multiple… well, shit, he supposed _ensembles_ was the word he was grasping for here. There were several pairs of panties; each distinctively coloured to match other pieces that had emerged from his search. No bras, he noted with a rush of relief, but there was a corset, garter belts and other strange contrivances he didn’t even recognize and – a discovery he had not anticipated through his furtive research – a pair of spike-heeled shoes in pinching proportions yet somehow sized for his own feet. 

For a paralyzed moment, all he could do was stare, stunned at the choice he was confronting. Putting on a thing or two that Pike had picked out for him was one thing; having to express his preference from among the spoils of Pike’s horny impulse shopping was something else entirely.

_Coward._ He shook off his panic with a snarl of irritation. Pike had already revealed so damn much of himself, through accident and now this bull-headed invasion of privacy. If he couldn’t dare to choose from among Pike’s largely similar options, he didn’t even deserve to be here. 

Not for the first time, his eye drifted back to the corset. It was paneled in tasteful dove grey satin and trimmed in black to match one of several pairs of panties as well as a lightweight garter belt, which suggested the black stockings… at least, the black seemed to make more sense than the white…

He pressed his fingers to his mouth to stifle a slightly hysterical laugh. Shit. So this was a thing that was actually going to happen. 

Once that realization had sunk in, he stripped as briskly as he could, shucking and folding his civilian clothing but still, he hesitated. Nudity alone wasn’t enough to make him dress himself – he was far too comfortable in this room, in his own skin. He had surprised his Chris just like this often enough, slipping into bed naked and prepared to be taken at the end of a long day… but that wouldn’t do, not with all these fine things strewn over the bedspread.

He put away the items he had passed over – again, too fast a job, but once faced with the scraps remaining on the bed there was nothing else for it. For the first time, he was thankful for all the memories of Jocelyn close beneath his fingertips, for experience that understood the order, the delicacy of all this silk and satin even as his body responded with an unexpected tremor to the rigidity of the corset, the ankle straps on the impossible heels.

As he expected given Pike’s track record, everything was perfectly tailored to his male proportions. Even the ridiculously scarce panties were less constricting than he had grimly anticipated, though the thin satin still clung obscenely at his cock. He attempted to adjust himself, gave it up with a sharp intake of breath as his touch through the satin stirred his constricted erection beyond bearing. 

An experimental turn in his pinching shoes brought McCoy about face to the curtain wall of windows turned to mirrors by the darkness beyond Pike’s bedroom. He flinched, and suddenly walking in those shoes wasn’t such a problem, not if it got him the hell away from his own reflection.

He fled the bedroom as quickly as he could manage on the teetering spikes of his shoes, nearly stumbling to the sideboard where he had abandoned his empty glass. A loose splash of bourbon soon fixed that; McCoy drained it in a single harsh swallow, poured again, clutched the anchor of his drink with tensed fingers. 

This was a terrible idea. Pike’s suppressed anger at having been found out was replaying viciously through his mind, warning of all the disasters and indignities he could avoid if he retreated to the bedroom right now, got out of these foolish things before Pike returned.

His decision made, McCoy craned his head back to drink his bourbon with more urgent purpose, relishing something like relief right up until the blips of the door lock threw cold tension down his tightly laced spine. 

McCoy froze, unable to even tip his head down to look as the door slid open and shut. The open layout of the apartment gave him nowhere to hide; he cringed at the harsh gasp that reached his ear, the damning silence that broadcast Pike’s motionless pause at the door. Maybe that meant he still had time to escape.

He lashed an anxious tongue over the trace of bourbon clinging to his lips. ‘Chris,’ he began roughly. He opened his eyes, stared down at the glass clutched pathetically in his hand. He had to get rid of that first. ‘I’m sorry, I–’

‘Don’t move.’ 

His hand stopped, poised halfway back to the sideboard. Warily, he glanced aside and swallowed tightly as he finally saw his Chris, saw the raw hunger in his stare. He looked – _fuck_ – so incredible, perfectly poised in his crisp command grays yet dangerously charged by tangible lust. The tight authority of that uniform in contrast to his own frivolous get-up was a dynamic he could appreciate, something familiar in the face of this madness.

Slowly, he offered a slight nod of agreement and drew his bourbon back into the cradle of his hands as Pike crossed the wide room at a feral stride. Those pale eyes never stopped tracking up and down McCoy’s body in an all-encompassing gaze that stripped him down, set the blood pounding so ferociously through McCoy’s veins that he could scarcely stand still as Pike drew into his trembling orbit and plucked the drink from his hands. He drained it dry, pausing to lick the last droplets from his lips before setting the glass aside.

McCoy barely managed to keep his strained legs beneath him as Pike curled a solid hand around his cinched waist. A soft groan escaped him at the strength he could feel through the reinforced satin but thankfully Pike was little better off: shuddering as his fingers clenched at the corset, head bowing as he visibly struggled to control himself. McCoy had always been the taller man but in these heels he towered over his lover, high enough that he had to bow his head to bury a kiss in his tousled hair. 

‘Is this alright?’ he asked cautiously. A rough, broken chuckle answered him.

‘Way beyond alright,’ Pike said, his normally steady voice choked by lust. ‘I… you’re gorgeous,’ he breathed out. ‘I can’t believe…’

He trailed off, lost for words as his hand slid down the rigid boning of the corset over McCoy’s fluttering stomach. His reverent fingers resisted the needy bulge of his cock, travelling instead along the taut strap holding up his left stocking. McCoy held his breath, eyes falling shut as Pike’s fingers lingered over his bare thigh, slid questioningly inward.

‘Did you…?’

‘Yeah,’ he admitted, hoarse and hesitant. All those vids had shown a clear preference for clean-shaven men, and he much preferred all this vulnerable, hyperaware skin to his fears of Pike’s disappointment. He chewed anxiously at his lower lip as those fingers slipped underneath the satin panties, bit back a whimper as Pike found the too-smooth skin at the root of his engorged cock.

‘ _Fuck…_ ’ Pike snatched his hand away, sparking a panicked shame across McCoy’s charged skin that was swiftly crushed by Pike’s powerful arm hauling him impossibly close to the crumbling wall of his lover’s body. His hands were everywhere now: roving over his thighs, kneading his ass and clawing at his shoulders to drag him into Pike’s greedy mouth. His teeth and tongue raked over his heaving chest, devouring him with panting growls and rapid-fire bites. McCoy moaned as a bestial flick of tongue caught his nipple, cried out at the sharper snare of teeth that exploded with a burst of pain.

‘Sorry… fuck, I’m sorry, I…’ Pike shuddered through a frustrated groan, heated brow shoved hard to McCoy’s sternum as he gasped for control. His hands seized tight to McCoy’s cinched waist, fighting for a stillness defied by the feverish roll of his groin into McCoy’s thigh. ‘I’d always pictured this going slower,’ he said in an embarrassed undertone that made McCoy bury a laugh in his lover’s hair.

‘You go at whatever pace you like, darling.’ Despite his gentle reassurance, his hands on Pike’s ass and the nudge of his thigh between those powerful legs made his own preference plain. ‘Just tell me what you want…’

‘I already got what I want.’ Pike drew back slightly for another sweeping look that seemed to settle some of the unchecked energy thrumming through his lean body. ‘I should’ve known you’d prefer the corset,’ he added fondly, fingers relaxing their hold to trace the rigid bones of the garment. ‘Is it tight enough for you?’

A self-conscious flush crawled over McCoy’s skin. He had laced the corset as tight as he could manage but of course Pike knew it wouldn’t be enough. ‘Could use some help,’ he suggested softly.

A low purr of approval rumbled up Pike’s throat. ‘Turn around for me,’ he murmured. ‘Let me see you...’

He pivoted carefully on his spiked shoes, enjoying Pike’s trailing fingers on his body as he moved. His touch swept his shoulders, tripped down the laces of the corset, groped his ass through the sparse panties with a heavier hand. 

‘Hold onto the sideboard.’ One of Pike’s hands splayed itself across his abdomen, directing the line of his body as McCoy leaned downward and braced both hands against the sturdy ledge. He drew in a slow, not entirely steady breath as the fingers of Pike’s other hand plucked at the corset’s laces, loosening his first attempt at a knot before drawing the whole thing mercilessly, perfectly tight from his lowest ribs down to his hips. The last sharp pull of Pike’s knot jerked him upright, ripped a shallow gasp from his constricted body.

‘Chris… oh, god…’ 

‘You like this?’ Pike pressed up tight from behind to grind slowly against his ass, to whisper the question hot against his ear. ‘Is this turning you on…?’ A downward trailing hand sought its own answer, fondling McCoy’s erection through taut satin. ‘You’re so wet,’ he noted softly as his fingers found the pre-come staining the fabric, and McCoy shuddered apart with a low groan.

‘ _Yes…_ ’ He closed his hand over Pike’s, thrust greedily into their joined touch as his head dropped weakly forward. ‘Fuck, yes, want you… please, darling…’

He was too overtaken by lust, too short of breath and too unsteady on his pinched feet to resist as Pike spun him about again, shoved him back into the rattling sideboard with hands and hips and a tongue that shoved past his gasping lips for a rough obscenity of a kiss. McCoy answered him greedily, suckling hard at Pike’s lower lip as he tugged at the collar of his uniform, tearing his way to taut flesh and solid muscle. He managed to wrestle the grey tunic most of the way off before Pike shoved back with an impatient growl, threw the heavy garment aside and stripped off the black shirt beneath before sinking to his knees and burying his face in the brief passage of naked flesh above the wide black band of his stocking. ‘Up,’ he growled, a command smudged by wet lips over his smooth shaven skin. ‘Want this leg around me…’ 

Shakily, unsteadily, he drew his left leg over Pike’s shoulder on the prompting of a firm hand behind his knee. The spiked heel dragged a long red mark down his muscled back that made McCoy wince with a complication of remorse and envy but Pike moaned decadently as he dragged his open mouth over the shape of his cock throbbing thick through his panties. Clever lips teased him through thin, clinging satin, wetting the pale grey fabric beyond decency and sending a hard quiver of need through McCoy’s body. He dropped heavily into the sideboard, ignoring the clatter of glassware tipping beneath his flailing hands as he lost all reason to the sinful heat of Pike’s skilled mouth.

‘Careful,’ Pike breathed, a distracted afterthought hushed against drenched satin. McCoy whimpered at the hot breath of him, at the strong hands seizing his hip and thigh to support his trembling body on one ridiculous shoe. 

‘You try staying upright in these heels with your dirty mouth all over… _ahh…_ ’ His growling tirade died on a low cry as Pike’s teeth dragged over his shaft through panties that were soaked to his skin with saliva and his own excitement. ‘Chris,’ he panted, hips arching and fingers clenching tight to the sideboard. ‘Oh, fuck… please…’

Pale eyes flashed approvingly upward, followed by a sharp grin as Pike caught the edge of the panties between his teeth and slowly, carefully tugged them away from the rigid thrust of his cock. The clinging wet fabric teased him almost as cruelly as Pike’s mouth, left him gasping and squirming as he was finally freed for the slow slick tongue sliding along his dick. 

Pike swallowed him whole, showing rare mercy for his unraveling body and working him enthusiastically with a swift, lascivious tongue that dragged him rapidly to the brink. Tempted though he was, McCoy didn’t dare release his grip on the sideboard to stroke Pike’s hair, take his head in hand as his arousal coiled taut beneath his skin and quaked through his thighs. All he could do was hold on tight, dig his heel hard into a solid back as his hips snapped forward and his orgasm burst thick upon Pike’s restless tongue. 

He sagged weakly against the sideboard as Pike’s mouth slipped away from his cock, sending more glasses clattering as he gasped for oxygen. His Chris was breathing just as fast and hard, flushed mouth gaping against his upraised thigh, hands still feverish on his body. The urge to beg for a command that would satisfy Pike’s needs tickled like habit at the tip of McCoy’s tongue, but a longer look at his lover’s kneeling shape and the scratches on his back stifled the question with its own answer. 

He drew his leg back, planting his heel on a heaving shoulder and shoving hard to knock Pike down on his back before dropping down to cover his trembling body and push a stocking-clad thigh firmly between his splayed legs. Pike arched greedily beneath him, writhing and keening as McCoy licked the sweat from his throat, bit down hard to claim a bruise from his flesh.

‘No… wait…’ Despite his hoarse protests, Pike was thrusting greedily against his leg, tangling his fingers in the laces of his corset to keep him moving. ‘So close,’ he ground out tightly, ‘not gonna last…’

‘Then don’t.’ He gave Pike’s hair a playful tug, pulled him in for a swift, biting kiss. ‘You’re gonna come for me,’ he whispered against his lips. ‘Show me what this does to you…’

Pike whimpered against his mouth, stole another kiss as he crushed their bodies tighter together. Even through the heavy weave of his uniform trousers, he could feel the familiar shape of Pike’s hard cock rutting desperately against his thigh, knew the deeper, more decadent roll of his hips as he raced closer to completion. McCoy bore down hard upon his body, muttering filthy encouragements against his overexerted lips and swallowing the last of his broken moans as he came apart with a powerful shudder barely contained by the entanglement of their joined limbs. 

They laid the same for countless gasping breaths in which McCoy mouthed at the bruise on Pike’s neck and enjoyed the slow slide of blind fingers over clinging satin. A vague worry for staining all this fine lingerie flickered through his sated mind, but a tug at the corset’s laces stopped his first, tentative movement away.

‘Not yet,’ Pike murmured lazily, even as his body arched in a satisfied stretch beneath him. ‘I haven’t come in my pants since I was a teenager,’ he added with a wry twist of his mouth and a slow squirm of his hips. ‘You’ll need to give me a moment here.’

McCoy grinned with quiet satisfaction, bending his head to claim a fond kiss. ‘You could’ve relived the experience a lot sooner if you’d only asked, darling.’ He said it teasingly, but regretted his words as Pike went hauntingly still. 

‘What made you do this?’

‘Do you really need to ask?’ he shot back incredulously. 

Pike shrugged, his head rolling aside to watch his fingertips drag along the bones of the corset. ‘The way you reacted…’

McCoy cut him off with another kiss, lingering slow and sweet. ‘Let’s call this an apology then,’ he offered. ‘Though that’s not my only reason, especially not now…’

‘Oh?’ A shred of hope sparked in Pike’s narrowed eye. ‘And what happens now?’ 

‘You mean after you’ve had your moment?’ He grinned at Pike’s self-deprecating eye-roll. ‘I’m thinking a nice long shower,’ he decided as he lowered his head, nuzzling the scent of sweat and aftershave at Pike’s throat. ‘Long enough for me to get you all worked up again, then you can choose what I’ll try on next.’

‘Mmn.’ Pike tipped his head back, luxuriating in the tease of McCoy’s mouth on his skin. ‘My choice?’

‘Whatever you want, darling.’ 

‘Including the eyeliner?’ 

‘The _what_?’ He pushed up fast, arms braced to either side of Pike’s shoulders to scrutinize the mischievous glint in his eye. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘I thought this was your apology?’ he asked innocently, settling both hands on McCoy’s ass through the panties. He dropped his head, shuddering with equal parts arousal and dread as Pike made the slippery fabric drag across his flesh, slid his fingers slowly underneath to stir a shiver of interest deeper than skin.

‘Fine,’ he conceded with a sigh. ‘But once you’ve got me all dolled up,’ he warned, warming to the play of Pike’s hands on his body, ‘you better have that gorgeous cock of yours hard and ready for me because I plan on taking you for a _very_ long ride…’

A choked-off moan rumbled from Pike’s chest as his softened dick twitched against McCoy’s thigh. ‘Come on,’ he growled, nudging him firmly aside. ‘Moment’s over.’

Something made him halt Pike’s upward movement, capturing his wrists with firm hands and pinning him back down to the floor, pleased to hear the delicious new sound he got in return. 

‘No, it’s not,’ he vowed softly between gentle bites along Pike’s throat, taking his time to find everything more waiting to be uncovered.


End file.
